


New Religion

by calmgeyama



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Dancing, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, in the kitchen that is, it's Makki's birthday and he'll dance if he wants to
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-28
Updated: 2018-01-28
Packaged: 2019-03-10 09:23:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13499120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calmgeyama/pseuds/calmgeyama
Summary: “It’s still my birthday,” Hanamaki argued, his lips falling into a perfect pout. “Please, Issei? Just one dance, I promise. Maybe two.” He was already moving to grab his phone. “I have the perfect song.”Matsukawa rolled his eyes. “It’s your birthday for seven more minutes.”“Just enough time for a dance or two!”





	New Religion

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday to my best bubblegum boy (a day late but let me live)! Shoutout to Kit and Dani for reading this over for me. You're angels and ily. Title is from New Religion by The Heydaze.

“I can’t believe I’m the first one leaving my own party.”

Matsukawa watched his boyfriend lean his head against the cab’s window. “Makki, you’re old now. It’s okay that you can’t hang with the youngins anymore. I’m sure Watari is serenading everyone with a Top 40 hit in your honor as we speak.”

Hanamaki’s eyes were closed and his voice quiet as he mumbled. “Shut up, Issei.”

They’d been best friends since their first year of high school, and dating for nearly as long, but it still caused a perfect shock to race through Matsukawa’s body when Hanamaki used his given name. They’d spent so much time being Mattsun and Makki that it wasn’t until after high school, away from Oikawa and his penchant for nicknames, that they’d started using each other’s given names. But Makki had always been able to say it so freely, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Matsukawa’s tongue had betrayed him the first time he tried to say  _ Takahiro _ . It’d come out sounding like another language and Hanamaki had laughed so hard he’d cried and of course told the story with little shame. Though, in Matsukawa’s defense, he thought anyone would be tongue-tied if they saw Makki in his old volleyball jersey…  _ and nothing else. _

Hanamaki started to snore quietly as they came up to their apartment complex. Matsukawa felt terrible waking him up, but the last time he’d tried to carry him up the cramped stairs to the fifth floor, they’d both ended up in the hospital.

“No ER trip for my birthday?” Hanamaki joked after they’d began the walk up the stairs. They’d been in the same apartment for almost two years and still the elevator was broken.

“I don’t want to bother an ambulance and cabs are expensive,” Matsukawa said, “We finally have enough money for extra ramen toppings and I don’t want to ruin that.”

Hanamaki laughed, the sound echoing through the stairwell. They joked about their last ambulance ride all the way to their front door, only stopping when one of their neighbors opened their door, dressed in a too-short robe, to remind them that, “Some people sleep at night.”

The pair rolled their eyes while stepping into their apartment, but when the door slammed shut, Hanamaki winced. “Sorry to the neighbors who sleep at night.”

Matsukawa waved off his concern and Hanamaki shuffled towards their bedroom while he went to check on the cat’s water and food. By the time he entered the bedroom, Hanamaki was changed. He mumbled something about water and left the room while Matsukawa changed himself. When he was done, he flopped back on the bed, cringing at the way the bedframe creaked. That would need to be fixed before the neighbors started to complain.

“Issei!”

Matsukawa sat up as Hanamaki called for him, and sighed. He knew exactly what had happened and wasn’t ready. He slunk to the kitchen and saw Hanamaki leaning against the counter and smiling.

“Good news, my second wind is here! Let’s dance!”

“You’ve already got your pajamas on, let’s just get to bed.” Matsukawa forced a yawn to prove his point. They’d dance for too long, have sex on their creaky bed, and then Hanamaki would complain in the morning that he was too tired to go to lunch with his parents.

“It’s still my birthday,” Hanamaki argued, his lips falling into a perfect pout. “Please, Issei? Just one dance, I promise. Maybe two.” He was already moving to grab his phone. “I have the perfect song.”

Matsukawa rolled his eyes. “It’s your birthday for seven more minutes.”

“Just enough time for a dance or two!” He tapped his thumb against his phone and the sounds of one of his favorite American songs filled the small space of their kitchen. He lifted his hand and gave Matsukawa a teasing grin. “Don’t worry, I’ll lead.”

“You, lead?” Matsukawa snorted and grabbed Hanamaki’s hand. He twirled him into his chest and laughed. “We agreed when we took those dance lessons that I would always be the lead.”

“No, you told me you wouldn’t take the lessons unless you were “the supreme leader,” remember?”

Matsukawa hummed in response and started swaying along to the music, pulling Hanamaki along. His boyfriend had probably expected a sweet slow dance, something gentle and soft, but Matsukawa had caught his own second wind. He swiped Hanamaki’s phone from the counter and quickly switched the song. The beat was faster, and Matsukawa thought the quick strumming of the guitar better matched the way his heart raced when Hanamaki’s smile widened and he spun around the cramped kitchen.

He used to hate the way he felt the need to wax poetic about Hanamaki, but Matsukawa has accepted his flowery thoughts. Hanamaki was the type of person who deserved every flowing description. He was, after all, the guy who had thoroughly captured Matsukawa’s attention from the moment they met.

\--

_ “Do you know where Gym Three is?” _

_ Matsukawa lifted his gaze from his phone and caught a pair of soft grey eyes that were entirely too close to him. “You’re on the volleyball team?” He didn’t mean to sound so disbelieving, but the boy in his personal space had what looked like pink hair and while Matsukawa’s lanky frame was because he’d sprouted up before the start of his first year, the boy seemed like he was… fragile. _

_ “Hopefully.” He stuck his hand out and gave Matsukawa a grin so large it crinkled the corner of his eyes. “I’m Hanamaki Takahiro. I’m looking forward to being teammates.” _

_ Matsukawa returned the smile and gave his own name. Hanamaki gripped his hand tightly, and Matsukawa feared that he could read minds and had heard his fragile comment. _

_ But Hanamaki released his hand and then started walking away with confidence, like he hadn’t approached Matsukawa for directions. He made it only a few feet before he turned back. “Hey, Matsukawa, where’d you say Gym Three is?” _

_ Matsukawa shook his head and tried to swallow down his laughter. “Follow me. We can go together.” _

_ \-- _

“Get out of your head.” Hanamaki laughed and bumped his hip against Matsukawa’s as the song changed. “We don’t have much dancing left before my birthday ends!”

Things had changed from their first meeting—Matsukawa found that he was the one to follow more frequently, and they’d both grown. Matsukawa felt like an idiot for ever thinking of Hanamaki as fragile. He was only three centimeters shorter and still had the muscles they’d earned during their volleyball careers.

They’d worked on their English, spent a few months traveling around the world, and spent the months after working an insane amount of overtime to make up for the impromptu trip. They moved in together, almost adopted a snake, decided on a cat instead, and then lost the cat for two days when they left the door open while bringing in groceries and she escaped.

There was so much that was different, but the only thing that mattered to Matsukawa was the way things were the same.

They still went on runs together and had pancakes afterwards. Hanamaki still made him homemade soup whenever he was ill, and every Saturday Matsukawa bought Hanamaki a creampuff from their favorite bakery.

Hanamaki still looked ridiculously good in shorts, Matsukawa still felt breathless whenever his boyfriend moved his hips  _ just so _ , and Hanamaki still teased Matsukawa that he stared too much.

They laughed more with each other than with anyone else. They watched terrible anime, ordered in dinner too much, and if Matsukawa were being honest, their maturity level was probably the same as it had been in high school.

But most importantly, they were still together. They still loved each other as much as they ever had. There wasn’t anyone else Matsukawa wanted to dance around the kitchen with, and  _ that _ , he thought as Hanamaki leaned back against his chest, was all that mattered.

**Author's Note:**

> questions? comments? concerns? come shout at me on [tumblr](https://calmgeyama.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/Freckled_Trash)


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